Once More
by Zukajin
Summary: As the history of Azeroth is about to turn another page, Vol'jin is not happy. / Good news, everyone! This story will be longer than two chapters!
1. Chapter 1

**Genre: **Hurt/Comfort, "Romance", Angst, Drama

**Rating: **M. Goes there in the last chapter.

**Pairing: **One-sided(?) Vol'jin/Thrall, mentions of Aggra/Thrall.

**Chapters:** Two-shot.

**Disclaimer:** Characters in this piece of fiction belongs to **Blizzard** as well as does World of Warcraft and named places and stuff. Only the story is mine, and I don't get money for it.**  
**

**A/N: ***Takes a deep breath...*

Okay. First of all, English is not my mother language, so I apologize for possible errors. I do have read this through many times, but some sentences may look odd for people who are better in English.

Second, this is the first fic I've published in English. Ever. I do have many Warcraft fanfics in progress, but I thought I'll publish this and see what people think of my writing style.

So, **CONSTRUCTIVE** criticism is very welcome.

Mm, about the story itself.

It does follow the situation in WoW quite closely. It takes place in later Cataclysm, when the Aspects and Thrall had obtained the Dragon Soul and destroyed Deathwing with assistance of a Horde raid. (Yes, in this story the Horde takes all the honor.)

**WARNING.**

If you are not aware of what has been happening in WoW recently, this may contain spoilers. (Spoilers of save Thrall-quest chain and the last cinematic scene on DS raid, for example.)

Vol'jin may be slightly OOC for some people's tastes. If you start to feel disgusted or somethinglikethatIdon'treallycare, go ahead leave this fic. I'm not keeping you here against your will.

* * *

As the history of Azeroth is about to turn another page, Vol'jin is not happy.

In general, things were going to get better for everyone: Deathwing is gone for good. The Aspects began to have their grip over Azeroth once again, mending the damage Aspect of Death had caused. That's not why he wasn't happy, though; Shadow Hunter was proud of his Darkspear heroes who assisted the Aspects and Thrall in the attack.

But Vol'jin was proudest of Thrall.

It was a very difficult quest - even for Thrall - to try to save Azeroth from almost certain doom. It required a very strong mind to deal with the pressure, and he did it. Of course he wasn't alone, and they would have been doomed without the help of Aspects and heroes, but the orc was as important as the others on this matter.

Thrall saved Azeroth. Vol'jin knows that, and it made him to adore the shaman even more.

Which was not good at all.

News of Deathwing being gone wasn't the only thing Vol'jin heard about the next day. He did know about Aggra. He did recognize their relationship was quite... close. Thrall had told him about her, and for instant, Shadow Hunter had hated her.

Because it is easier to hate the person who steals your mate from you.

What happened in Hyjal still haunted Vol'jin. It should have been him who saved Thrall, not her. He owed the ex-Warchief big time: he should have been there. And the visions she saw while saving him... They were worrying. Frightening, actually.

Did Thrall really share his future with that red-skin?  
With their own children?

Clenching his fists, Vol'jin balanced his weight on his toes and sat down in front of the fire that was lit before him. Staring at hungry flames, he exhaled the rising smoke in his nostrils, breathing out slowly.

_'We trolls mate for life'_, Chieftain reminded himself, closing his eyes. _'Orcs don't. I should have remembered it before I fell for him.'_

Though, he knew it was too late to say it now. He had known for a long time that Thrall is his soulmate, but apparently it's not other way around.

Loas are bitches.

With a deep sigh, he kept staring at the fire. Other trolls in the house have been aware of their Chieftain sigh occasionally, but none of them dared to ask him about it. The answer they could get out from Vol'jin was "nothing" or irritated "don't you have anything else to do?". Their attempts to make their leader speak have been in vain earlier, why should the situation be any different now?

Vanira and Zen'tabra peered at their Chieftain for a minute, turning to glance at each other before walking out of the house.  
"'s gone worse, ain't it?" the druid sighed, rubbing her neck. They walked down the road towards the training grounds to check the trainees.  
"Ya. Ah wonder what is de problem. He won' tell us, won' he?" Vanira added sadly, peering at her friend. Green-haired woman only shrugged.

Once they were at training grounds, they stopped and watched the apprentices train.

Things were better after the naga attacks, so it couldn't be it. Vol'jin has led them to their home, and they prepare many potential soldiers for the Horde. It couldn't be Garrosh, because Vol'jin hadn't talked to him in a long time. And now even Deathwing being gone... Everything seems to be okay to them. So what _is_ the problem?

* * *

Vol'jin let out a deep sigh.

It was his day off, and he spent it in his room, lying in his bed. Several animal pelts covered the open windows completely, making the room pitch-dark.

After the news, he hadn't contacted Thrall or answered his calls, even though he had tried to contact him many times during the week. Vol'jin had asked the trolls to tell everyone that he's away and wishes to be left in peace, even if it was for duty.

He was sure that others will not sink the whole island if he's away for a day.

He was aware of his silly behavior, but he couldn't help it. His brain have gone out of control: He couldn't stop thinking about Thrall in someone else's arms, a couple of little Thralls running in circles around their feet.  
Though, the Chieftain of the Darkspear Tribe was certain he chose the wrong way to deal with the situation.

Thrall was never his. And he is not Thrall's in a way he would like to be.  
They are brothers. They are supposed to be supporting each other, but what Vol'jin is doing right now?

Once again, Chieftain felt angry. So angry for not standing by his Warchief's side at the time of joy and happiness. Instead, he keeps himself in the darkness, weeping after something that didn't exist.

"What a pathetic Chiefta'n I am..." Shadow Hunter murmured, clenching the sheets in his hands.  
This situation made him weak, and he hated himself for it.  
_'Now it stops'_, he decided. '_I will stop acting like a fool and focus on things at hand – even those Thrall has for me.'_  
Sighing, he pulled himself out of the bed, dressing fully before leaving the room. Lazily stretching his arms, Vol'jin stepped out of his room, walking down the stairs.

"'m sorry, Warchief, he be still away."

He stopped in the middle of the stairs, taking a sneak peek downstairs. The fire was on, and Vanira was talking to Thrall through it._  
Now it's time to move on_, he reminded himself. His body still hesitated.  
He heard Thrall's voice demand a real explanation of his whereabouts, but Vanira explained calmly that it's his day off and insisted full peace.

_'At least she tried', _Vol'jin thought, before taking a deep breath and forcing his body forward. Taking slow steps, he made his way down the stairs and towards the fire.

Thrall's miserable expression quickly turned happier as he saw him.  
"Vol'jin!" Warchief exclaimed, and the Chieftain pulled a fake smile on his lips, dismissing Vanira with a nod before turning to his brother.  
"Brother. How are things?" He asked politely.  
"Just great, I have so much to tell you!"  
"'s good." Vol'jin answered, balancing his weight on his toes and sitting down. "Do tell me."  
Thrall smirked. "I was hoping I could tell you face to face. Are you still busy on your "field trips" and whatever reasons your people have told me this week?"  
Vol'jin looked at his flaming eyes in the fire. Why he has to do this? Even though he had decided that his awkward behavior stops now, he didn't want to meet his Warchief yet. It would be easier to just listen to him and look at his face through the fire.

His brain went completely blank, and he muttered something what happened to pop in his head first.  
"Da naga be furious, yes..." He told him slowly, biting his tongue. Why did he even say that? A simple nod would have been more believable than "the nagas are furious?" He wanted to smack himself in the head.

And the urge to hurt himself increased as he watched Thrall narrow his eyes.  
Uncomfortable silence lingered between the two leaders. The troll tried to look as serious as possible; maybe Thrall would believe him.  
It seemed that his hopes were in vain. He almost heard the Warchief's brain gears turn: His eyes were locked on his face, looking for a hint of a lie.  
Feeling nervous, Vol'jin turned his gaze away from the orc, flipping his long, unstylized hair to his chest, leaving his fingers to play with decorations he had on his hair.  
"Brother, what's going on?" He asked. His tone was gentle but demanding; one of the things Vol'jin adored so in Thrall. He is able to speak in a way that would make even an enemy to confess his crimes against the Horde without feeling pressured.  
Still, Vol'jin was able to resist that skill of his this time.  
"Nothin'. I'm jus' tired." He told him. During these weeks, it was very hard to lie to his Warchief. But for the sake of their friendship, that was all he could do until things settled down.  
Thrall studied his face. Vol'jin stared back, his expression serious.

After a long silence, Thrall breathed in. "I'm coming there."  
Vol'jin blinked once, twice. That was the least (and the most) wanted thing he could think of right now. "What?"  
"You heard me."  
"B-but you still be in Northrend?"  
"Actually no. I arrived here in Orgrimmar in the morning. I would have told you earlier if you weren't so... "busy"." There was a weird pause before the Warchief said the last word, and Shadow Hunter gulped. He knew the orc didn't believe him or his trolls anymore.

He was in a big trouble.

Sighing, he waved his hand as a sign of defeat. He couldn't say no to the ex-Warchief. "C'mon then, you are free to enter our land anytime."  
Thrall smiled. Oddly. "I will be there in one hour. Please, find us a place where we can talk... privately."  
Vol'jin closed his eyes, breathing out a simple "Yes". He heard the fire go off, but still he stood there, letting the smoke fill his nostrils.

Did he really deserve this?

* * *

**A/N2:** Vol'jin and his fabulous hairflip.  
The last chapter will be up as soon as I see if this is a failure or not.

One thing I want to explain. Some people may find it odd that in my describes I call Thrall ex-Warchief, and in speech lines someone calls him Warchief. "IS HE A WARCHIEF OR NOT QQ"-question may pop into your head, so I'll just say this: Vol'jin doesn't accept Garrosh as his Warchief, it's still Thrall who he obeys whole-heartedly. So does the other trolls, because their Chieftain does it.

Reviews are welcome.


	2. Chapter 2

(( A:N / Hello! I am so sorry about keeping you in waiting! But my life had major changes which included graduating, new social life, moving, getting a job or two and so on. My computer died on November, so I had to buy a new laptop and write the next, "final" chapter of Once More.  
Guess what – I noticed the final chapter threatened to be too long, so I'll need to split it up into shorter chapters. So, this is not a two-shot anymore! The next chapter will be hard as hell, so it will take some time to finish it. I have written 80% of it already, though, so I guess it won't take too much time since I've had more and more inspiration for this fanfic. ^^  
This chapter will be a little bit boring, but I hope the final chapter will fill your needs!

But hey, thanks for the reviews, favorites and follows – I appreciate your support more than you can imagine! Love you guys. 3  
- Zukajin ))

* * *

"Chief?" The voice behind Vol'jin called, snapping him out of his frozen state. He didn't even realize he'd stopped to stare at the fire blankly, but with a brief glance behind him, he noticed that most of the people had gone out of the house, probably after the conversation. His eyes locked to a young druid's ones, frowning slightly. He tilted his head questioningly; he barely remembered the other male's name. His tribe is large, and unfortunately he couldn't learn everyone's names, if they weren't that important. But with a glance of his plain kilt and vest, he could tell he was only a trainee.  
"Zen'tabra be wonderin' if ya come ta welcome our heroes back to da village, chief", the shorter male said, quirking a smirk at him. It took time for Vol'jin to push the meeting with Thrall out of his head to realize what his soldier said, and it made him to let out a breathy curse in Zandali.  
"I forgot", the Chieftain grunted, frowning more at himself, "I have a meetin' in an hour, but I hope it will be a short one. Everyone can go ahead, I'll join as soon as I can."  
"Everyah?" The trainee asked, cocking a hairless eyebrow at him. Vol'jin nodded, turning his head slightly to glance at the fire as his stomach sunk at the thought of coming events. "… A couple of guards shoul' stay. Tell six guards ta come here."  
"Do ya have any specific guards in mind, chief?" The shorter male asked, but Vol'jin stood silent as he turned his head completely towards the fire again, his thoughts somewhere else.  
The druid stared at the wild mess of flaming red hair for a short while, before excusing himself out of the house to call any guards which happened to cross his path.

After a short while, six guards came running to Vol'jin, interrupting his stupid thoughts again. The Shadow Hunter told his orders quickly, frustration clear his voice. The guards glanced at each other as Vol'jin told them to pair up in three groups, and one group will stay near the house while two other groups are in Sen'jin Village to celebrate. The Shadow Hunter told them to switch in two hours, so everyone can attend the welcoming party.  
"An' don't get yourselves wasted, you have a task in hand, even if you can join the celebration while it's not your turn ta stay in guard. We have ta stay alert, even in this time of joy and celebration." Vol'jin stopped talking, almost spitting the last three words out. Seriously, what is his problem? He felt himself getting more and more frustrated as the time went by, the thought of Thrall coming here knocking the back of his mind.  
_'He's just Thrall, not a freaking Old God or anything'_, the troll reminded himself, his jaw tightening as he clenched his teeth.

To his surprise, the guards didn't excuse themselves immediately, but glanced at each other again, then moving their eyes back at him with a questioning look. They seemed bothered, as if they wanted to know something.  
"… What is it?" Vol'jin asked – almost snarled. He quickly stood up, moving towards the large smoking pipe he had gotten from Cairne years ago. He really needed to relax, or he will jump to Thrall – or the guards whose eyes still followed him – like an enraged animal. As he stuffed the large hole with herbs and lit it up, he spoke: "Ya two start. Circle around the main island. One of ya go to da southern beach an' escort Thrall here once he comes."

As he said that, the guards finally understood to leave. They saluted quickly and left to fulfill Vol'jin's orders, even if they didn't know who their leader meant by "you two".

Vol'jin moved to sit behind the smoking pipe, letting out a small sigh. Finally he was going to be alone.  
Finally he could gather his thoughts and prepare himself mentally. He had to make his stupid nervousness away before Warchief came, or the meeting will not go as planned. Yes, he noticed he was nervous – he usually hides it well, but now it seemed to be impossible. He wasn't acting like a leader should act right now, he even wasn't that relaxed, but composed Vol'jin his people learned to know.  
And that's one reason why he should get his thoughts gathered and handled so he could move on.

Vol'jin took a deep inhale from his pipe, leaning his forehead against it as he kept the smoke inside his lungs for a short while, then letting it out slowly. Even if the Chieftain didn't quite understand himself at the moment, he did notice he felt overwhelmed because of the recent events. First, Deathwing is gone, which means Azeroth is saved, her people can live without fear of their world burning. That was something he should be happy about.  
But then there is this _small_ thing about Aggra being pregnant to Thrall.  
This means they are bonded for life. The unborn child symbolizes their everything. What they are. What they have together.  
Love towards each other.

That was something Vol'jin couldn't handle… for now.  
Thankfully, the relaxing herbs started to affect his brain, making him feel his tensed muscles relax, his mind finding its peace. The Chieftain took another inhale, resting his three-fingered hand on the pipe's neck. He knew smoking was a good idea, otherwise he would be circling the house like a caged animal as he waited for that orc appear.

Orc… Thrall is an orc.  
Orcs are green. Many shades of green, sometimes brown, grey and red… But most of them are green these days. Thrall's people were green. Thrall is green.  
That shade of green which palm leaves and the plants around the island held. It was fascinating to look at, to touch. To slide his thick fingers along the delicate leaves – fingers – the wind – him – whispering to him.

Vol'jin turned his gaze slowly to his arm which held the pipe. He had blue skin. Almost turquoise, like the sea around his islands. Welcoming, but its depths held so many dangerous things. The storm brings deadly waves – anger, hatred, death – but when the sky is clear, the sea is at peace – relaxed, calm, in harmony.

The troll realized what he was thinking. What the hell did he stuff in his pipe? His thoughts made no sense, so the herbs in the pipe clearly weren't something he thought they were.  
Vol'jin shrugged, deciding to stop smoking after another inhale. He needed to be himself once Thrall – the walking palm, he chuckled – appears.  
"He needs to stand on his head, though", Vol'jin mused quietly, closing his eyes. "Otherwise the colors are upside down , upside down, leaves aren't supposed ta be at the shaft of the palm tree…" The Chieftain stopped to think for a moment. "Do I say this out loud?"

"Apparently you do, or I have learned to read your thoughts", a deep voice answered from the door. Vol'jin snapped his eyes open, his gaze meeting Thrall's ocean blue orbs.  
Shit.

They stared at each other for a while. Vol'jin couldn't tear his eyes away, it's been so long they had even met face to face. Thrall had been busy with Earthen Ring for a long time, and he had been stuck in Darkspear Islands because of the naga attacks.  
Thrall had just enough time to forget his existence and get bonded with that brown-skin woman.

Even with the effects of the unknown mix of herbs, Vol'jin felt his thoughts darken again.  
"… Great…" He murmured quietly to himself, but before Thrall could ask, he started to talk. "Sorry, I didn't hear you coming."  
"It's alright…" Thrall answered slowly, his eyes locked on Vol'jin's own. The Chieftain could tell he was suspicious about something, but why?  
"What have you been smoking?" The ex-Warchief asked, finally breaking the eye contact to look at the pipe in front of Vol'jin. He sniffed the air. "Felweed?"  
"No, no", the troll snorted, deciding to take one more inhale to ease the uncomfortable feeling that crawled back inside his head. "A mix of relaxin' herbs… I think."  
"You think?" Thrall repeated, cocking an eyebrow. "Judging from what you said before you noticed me, that stuff is… too relaxing, don't you think?"  
"So wha'?" Vol'jin found himself snapping, "I'm not even allowed to relax, is tha' it?"  
The ex-Warchief frowned at him. He opened his mouth to say something, but the Chieftain didn't want to hear – so he talked again.  
"Sorreh. Been sufferin' from a lack o' sleep for a while." At least he told the truth – but surely he didn't have to reveal what caused the lack of sleep, right? "Now, tell me about your journey. I heard rumors that the Alliance aided you too, is that correct?"

Thankfully, Thrall didn't ask any further questions, but Vol'jin could tell that his behavior bothered the orc. As the ex-Warchief talked about his journey, his eyes were locked on Vol'jin's own, and the troll himself had to move his eyes away occasionally when that gaze became too uncomfortable. The way Thrall talked was… monotonous, like he didn't want to tell his tale anymore. But something forced him to keep going, and the troll was thankful for that.

Vol'jin himself stood quiet most of the time. His thoughts seemed to be muddled, and all he could do was listen to Thrall and comment something occasionally. As he expected, his appreciation towards the shaman only grew as he listened.  
Which was bad. But he couldn't help it.

"… But without Aggra, I wouldn't have been able to go through all of this." Thrall suddenly said. The mentioned name made Vol'jin snap from his thoughts, his stomach sinking again.  
And the shaman didn't continue, only looked at him with that unreadable look he had given many times during his visit. Vol'jin frowned, but grunted finally as an answer.  
"Without her teaching and support, Deathwing would have been able to kill me and destroy everything we hold dear. Because of her, I feel like I have grown as a shaman and as a person." Thrall kept going, his tone hardening slightly. Vol'jin felt anger and jealousy raise their ugly heads inside him. Why he had to do this? One fucking sentence about Aggra wasn't enough, is that it?  
The troll didn't know where Thrall aimed with this, so he simply grunted again.  
"Alexstrasza told us that Aggra is pregnant with my child."

Vol'jin tore his eyes from Thrall's again, focusing on the pipe in front of him. He hoped he hid his real feelings well, he really didn't want to explain himself to the man who unconsciously stabs his heart all over again.  
He really felt like punching Thrall right in the face and tell him to shut the fuck up about Aggra already, but he focused on keeping his face normal and form a pathetic attempt of a smile to his lips. "So I heard. Congratulations."

Even if he tried to keep his voice normal, it was the one which betrayed him.

"… I can't believe it."

Vol'jin tensed, his heart starting to hammer faster against his ribcage. He gave Thrall a hopefully-this-is-a-calm-look-look before focusing on litting the pipe again. The fire had died during the story.  
"This is why you're acting like this." Thrall stated, and the troll found it hard to keep himself together anymore. He took a deep inhale from the pipe, letting the smoke out as slowly as possible. He knew he was testing Thrall's nerves, but he really didn't want to give Thrall any more evidence that his marriage somehow bothered him.  
He glanced at Thrall, who looked back at him with a disappointed look.  
"I don't know what you are talking about." Vol'jin answered, silently begging for the herbs to ease his slowly stirring hatred towards himself, Thrall, Aggra, everything.  
"Don't lie to me anymore. What is it about Aggra that bothers you this much?" Thrall asked, moving closer and pulling the pipe away from Vol'jin gently. "Are you afraid that I don't have time to spend time with you once the child is born? That's completely understandable since I've been gone for a long time, and now this happens. But I assure you -"  
"Don't assure anything", Vol'jin interrupted, grasping the neck of the pipe to pull it back to himself. "Because you have no idea."  
"Then tell me, so I know what on earth is going on inside your head!" Thrall stated, impatience clear in his voice. Vol'jin let out a deep sigh and lifted a hand to rub the bridge of his long nose.  
"It's better when you don' know. I treasure our friendship too much, I will not ruin it with somethin' stupid like this." He told the ex-Warchief, his tone harsher than he expected. He stood up, sharing a short glance at the orc. "So I recommend ya to stop askin'. Believe it or not, but I'm happy fo' ya, an' I will pray the Loas that your child will be exactly like ya. But now excuse me –"  
"'Exactly like me?'" Thrall cocked an eyebrow up, making Vol'jin curse inside his head. He let out an awkward fake chuckle, waving his hand dismissively as he walked past Thrall towards the door. "Ya, heroic an' stuff. But ah really shoul' go to da village ta –"

"Vol'jin", the shaman said with a louder voice than earlier. Vol'jin froze in his tracks, turning his eyes back to Thrall slowly.  
"Why don't you just tell me?" The orc asked, a hint of sadness clear in his tone. The troll huffed in increasing anger.  
"An' why don' ya jus' give up? It be better like dis", the Chieftain answered, turning to face the ex-Warchief completely with a deep frown.  
"It's not better like this!" Thrall huffed, crossing his arms against his chest. "It's written all over your face that you're not fine. Even your accent quirks up because you're either nervous or angry because of this!"  
"Mebbe it's because ya ask too maneh questions!" Vol'jin growled, curling his hands into fists. He should calm down before he-  
"That's because I'm worried about you, Vol'jin! Don't you realize that you're my best friend, and always will be! What kind of friend would I am if I simply ignore the well-known fact that my best friend is not alright?"

Vol'jin froze, even his brain went completely blank for a moment. Why Thrall has to make things even harder than they already are?  
A mix of emotions swelled inside the troll's chest. He can't handle this. This was too stressful; he couldn't just get it over with and lay his heart before Thrall's feet. But he didn't know any other way… which would be effective.

"Ge'out." Chieftain finally blurted out, trying to convince his Warchief by pulling a hard expression on his face. "Sorreh mon, but it be better fo' all o' us. This be no real time ta tell ya wha's botherin' me." As he talked, he moved past Thrall, stopping to stand by the door to show it to the orc. "Actualleh, tha' time never be comin'. Jus' let me tink things over in peace an' I be over dis in no time."

"You are over what –" Thrall's sentence was cut short by himself, falling quiet. For a moment, he seemed to consider something, his eyes widening in sudden realization.

Fuck.

Vol'jin slapped his palm against his forehead, cursing quietly to himself. Why he had to say something like that?  
"Dere, looks like ya smart brain found out da answah. I believe dat da door looks like a bettah option den earlier, so ah suggest ya to grant mah wish an' leave." He told the larger male, trying his best to keep his face in check.

_"Teach him da lesson he needs, boy"_, he could hear a male voice inside his head, joined by another. "_Yess…. Give usss hisss blood. Ya don' desssserve the pain he givessss ta ya!"  
"Ogoun, Dambala, SHUT UP. I don't need any of you messed up in this!" _Vol'jin growled in his mind, a small hint of fear flashing in his eyes. If he lets those two take over his mind, his Warchief would be doomed… He needs to calm down. If his hatred goes up to a berserk state, his mind will be easier to control by Loas he worships.

Though, calming down was something he couldn't achieve instantly. His instincts told him to protect his pride, show the Loa and Thrall that he is not weak.

"_Come onnn, boy, he isssss nothing anymore! He only exissstss ta make ya insssane with ya weak feelingsss. Ya be no leader of ya race, ya be a fool if ya let thissss go on." _ Dambala hissed, and Vol'jin curled his fists into a ball. He didn't even hear Thrall speak to him, until the orc took a step closer to him with a questioning look. The troll snapped his eyes back at his Warchief, and Thrall flinched.  
"Vol'jin, your eyes are glowing. Look, it's alright, I –"

"Alright?" Vol'jin repeated slowly, "how this be alright?"

Thrall opened his mouth to answer, but the troll knew his growing hatred could be seen from his expression and body language more clearly. He stepped closer to Thrall, his vision turning red. "How – in aneh way – this be alright? How in Azerot' ya can make dis look so simpleh by sayin' this be feckin' ALRIGHT?!"

Thrall's face fell grim, though Vol'jin saw a hint of fear from his eyes. He didn't care.  
"Vol'jin, please calm down." The orc simply answered, and there Vol'jin lost himself – feeling the Loas fight for his mind's dominance.

"_Ssssee, he doesssn't take you ssseriousssly!"  
"That's it, he's making you look ridiculous! That's not appropriate thing to a leader of the Darkspear Tribe!"  
"Teach him the lesssson!"_

With a frustrated roar, Vol'jin had no option but to charge towards the orc with unexpected swiftness. He managed to catch Thrall by surprise, throwing him out of the house with so much strength that the shaman fell down the stairs, a few meters away onto the sand. The troll leapt along, landing on top of his Warchief. The sand whirled around them, but all Vol'jin could concentrate on was the Loa's powers surging to his mind. His ears were filled with Dambala's maniacal laughter and his own heavy breathing, his eyes seeing red as he glared down at Thrall – who he didn't even want to hurt. But he was pushed to the edge of madness by himself, the Loa and Thrall as well. He needed a better solution for this.

But the Loa was faster. He felt his own consciousness slip, making more room for the Loa – mostly for Dambala.

An uncomfortable tingling took over his body, making his own body fade and change with the Loa's blessing. He felt his teeth crack and change into razor sharp, thin fangs, cursed venom starting to ooze from the tips. A pained roar turned into a maniacal hiss as his legs, arms and upper body melted together, forming into a shiny blue-scaled tail with spikes running down the spine. His head got more width as it formed to a majestic cobra head, and soon, the transformation was done.

Thrall stared at the colossal serpent looming above him.

* * *

(( A/N2: CLIFFHANGER FUCK YEAH  
Explanations:

That stuff Vol'jin smoked before/when Thrall came was not relaxing stuff as he thought. Some of the trolls working in Headquarters has a bad habit of loaning Vol'jin's pipe without him knowing – this time someone forgot to clean the remaining herbs from it. Those herbs – mixed with Vol'jin's own, relaxing herbs – caused mood swings and muddled thoughts. This is why he was attacking Thrall instead of more simple solution.

As for his accent getting heavier during negative emotions… It's simple. He doesn't pay much attention how he forms the words when he's either angry or nervous.  
- Vol'jin went Berserk! In WoW, it simply means that **Berserking** is an active racial trait of trolls. It increases melee, ranged, and/or spell haste (depending on your class) by 20% for 10 sec. Activating this ability does not trigger the global cooldown.

... *Cough* Berserking in a story: There are four stages of being angry. Annoyed – Frustrated – Angry – BERSERK. Vo'ljin went through all four stages, which caused his eyes glow red. Because, well, he was completely mad? I guess that's what Berserk causes to trolls.

So, everyone knows that Vol'jin is a Shadow Hunter, right? Shadow Hunters abilities are based on voodoo magic and mostly from the blessings of Loas. In this chapter, you will have a small example of my version of how Loa works with a Shadow Hunter.  
Mentioned Loas (I try to suppress their info so you don't get that much spoiled since the Loa will be present in the next chapter as well):  
- Dambala – A Loa of certain animals. Grants a blessing of swiftness in a form of a serpent.  
- Ogoun – Loa of war. Grants the Shadow Hunter the ability to curse his foes.  
- Lukou – Loa of healing. Grants the Shadow Hunter the ability to heal his companions.


End file.
